Washington’s Birthday
‘Tis splendid to live so grandly,
That long after you are gone,
The things you did are remembered,
And recounted under the sun;
To live so bravely and purely,
That a nation stops on its way,
And once a year, with banner and drum,
Keeps its thoughts of your natal day.
‘Tis splendid to have a record
So white and free from stain,
That, held to the light, it shows no blot,
Though tested and tried amain;
That age to age forever
Repeats its story of love,
And your birthday lives in a nation’s heart
All other days above.
And this is Washington’s glory,
A steadfast soul and true,
Who stood for his country’s honor
When his country’s days were few;
And now, when its days are many,
And its flag of stars is flung
To the breeze in defiant challenge,
His name is on every tongue.
Yes, it’s splendid to live so bravely,
To be so great and strong,
That your memory is ever a tocsin
To rally the foes of the wrong;
To live so proudly and purely,
That your people pause in their way,
And year by year, with banner and drum,
Keep the thoughts of your natal day.
—Margaret E. Sangster.
Washington’s Home at Mt. Vernon is a finer testimony to the greatness of his character than all the monuments of stone that can ever be built.
Alternate Reading: Luke 6: 37-49.
Love is Religious Life
Most men know love but as a part of life:
They hide it in some corner of the breast,
Even from themselves; and only when they rest
In the brief pauses of that daily strife,—
Wherewith the world might else be not quite so rife,—
They draw it forth (as one draws forth a toy),
And hold it up to sister, child, or wife.
Ah me! Why may not love and life be one?
Why walk we thus alone, when by our side,
Love, like a visible God, might be our guide?
How would the marts grow noble I and the street,
Worn like a dungeon floor by weary feet,
Seem then a golden court-way of the Sun!
—Henry Timrod.
Under a Canopy of Love
I say to thee, do thou repeat
To the first man that thou mayest meet
In lane, highway, or open street—
That he, and we, and all men, move
Under a canopy of love,
As broad as the blue sky above:
That weary deserts we may tread,
A dreary labyrinth may thread,
Through dark ways under ground be led:
Yet, if we will one Guide obey,
The dreariest path, the darkest way,
Shall issue out in heavenly day.
And we, on divers shores now cast,
Shall meet, our perilous voyage past,
All in our Father’s house at last.
—Richard C. Trench.
Alternate Reading: Romans 5:1-11.